Every time Tonya Wiggins calls Franklin, I get that same guilty little jolt you get when you've been grinding missions for hours and swear you'll stop after the next one. It's not her dialogue that lands, it's the vibe. She's jittery, half-promising she's done with the hard stuff, and the whole scene feels like a mirror held up to a player who keeps saying, "I'm almost finished." If you've ever spent an evening chasing quick wins—cash, upgrades, that next shiny thing—then you already get why people end up looking up GTA 5 Money in the first place, just to skip the slog and get back to the parts that actually feel like GTA.

Why this side story feels oddly personal

Tonya isn't written to be lovable, and that's kind of the point. She's messy. She backtracks. She talks big, then stalls out. And you can tell Franklin hates being dragged into it, because he's trying to move up in the world. New connections, real money, bigger risks. But she's a tug on the ankle, a reminder of the neighbourhood routines he's desperate to outgrow. You hear him sigh, you feel the patience wearing thin, and it's hard not to recognise that same feeling when a game makes you do busywork before it lets you have fun again.

The mandatory choice that still makes no sense

Here's the strange bit: out of all the Strangers and Freaks activities scattered around Los Santos, Tonya's "Pulling Favors" is the one the game won't let you ignore if you want to finish the story. Not the wild stuff. Not the more cinematic distractions. This. If you wander off, the main plot basically waits for you. It's a bold move, forcing a side strand, and you'd think Rockstar would pick something that sells the world—something that makes you want to chase more optional content. Instead, it's like the game leans back and says, "Yeah, go do your chores first."

A tow truck is not a thrill ride

And the chores are exactly what you get. Drive to a marker, hook a car, crawl back to the impound. Do it again. No real tension, no clever twist, no payoff that matches the time. The tow truck handles like it's full of wet sand, and reversing into tight spaces becomes the main "challenge," which is a weird sentence to write about a crime sandbox. The pacing just falls apart. You go from planning big moves to inching around a car park at 20mph, watching Franklin—this guy who wants out—get stuck doing the kind of work he's trying to escape.

What players actually take away from it

Maybe that's the joke: the game makes you feel trapped on purpose. But even if that's true, it's still a rough ask when you're mid-campaign and just want momentum. Most players don't remember Tonya's missions as story beats; they remember them as a speed bump, the moment they checked their phone and thought, "Do I really have to." That's why so many people end up looking for ways to smooth the grind—whether it's skipping repetitive loops or gearing up faster—because GTA is at its best when you're making plans, not doing errands, and services like RSVSR exist for the folks who'd rather spend their time on heists and chaos than slow towing runs.